


Not-So Ghosts of Christmas

by Merwin_Me



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Courting Rituals, Feel-good, Fluff, M/M, Multiverse, Pre-Relationship, Spells & Enchantments, Steter Secret Santa, sort of time travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:39:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13169982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merwin_Me/pseuds/Merwin_Me
Summary: "Can someone please tell me what is going on?""It's a spell filled with pure intent, cast by a suitor to allow Stiles a glance at his past, a conversation with his present, and a visit from his future."





	Not-So Ghosts of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Secret Santa gift for [aochikabooks](http://blog.aochikabooks.com/)!  
> I hope you like it! Happy holidays and happy new year!

Christmas morning was like any other day for Stiles, waking up to the sound of his father puttering around in the kitchen to gather his lunch, readying for work. Just like every year after Claudia’s passing, the Stilinskis decided that their family would spend a day together the day after Christmas together with the McCall family. This would allow more deputies and nurses with large families to take a day off on Christmas day.

 

For Stiles, this year it meant that while his dad would be at work, he would spend the afternoon and evening with the pack at Derek’s loft. It would be their first official Christmas spent together.

 

When Derek had suggested they spend a day together, he had been nervous, scowling darkly as he tried to hide how much the request meant to him. It hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice and for once, everyone in the pack had agreed on something. Even those with parents made their excuses to their families, promising to spend time with them in the morning and the day after.

 

So when Stiles finally decided to get up out of bed at noon, stumbling down the stairs to get some coffee and food in him before leaving to the pack house, he didn’t expect there to be someone present in the kitchen already, fiddling with the coffee pot and flipping pancakes all while humming a hauntingly familiar lullaby.

 

Dressed in one of his more comfortable pajamas, Stiles came to an abrupt stop as his eyes fell on the pale, translucent woman standing near the stove, hair which he knew—which he  _ remembered _ —to be brown was a pale, faded color, but it didn’t take away from the fact that Stiles knew who was standing there, cooking breakfast.

 

“Mom?” Stiles stumbled on his own feet, ignoring any probably Supernatural influences at play right that moment. He reached out to the pale figure, sobbing a little when his fingers went through her nearly see-through arm. “ _ Mom _ ?”

 

The figure turned around at his sob, and then Stiles was looking at his mother, smiling at him with a familiar curl to her lips, dimples appearing in her cheeks and crows’ feet as pronounced as they had always been, laugh lines that had been forever etched in her face even in her sickness.

 

“My little Mieczyslaw,” Claudia turned off the gas, and in a faraway part of his mind Stiles wondered why she was able to touch objects but he wasn’t able to touch her, “oh how you’ve grown, my little dove.”

 

Stiles stayed rooted on his spot as the apparition of his mom walked closer to him, hands moving up to hover besides his cheeks, touching as much as she could without her hands going through him.

 

“ _ Mom _ .” It came out as a sobbed prayer even as Stiles reached for her again, whimpering when his hand just moved through her.

 

“Don’t cry, little dove. I’m here for now, it’ll be alright.” Claudia shushed him softly, somehow managing to steer him towards one of the seats without touching him. Stiles sat down hard on the chair, even as he made sure to keep his eyes on Claudia as she pulled out a chair as well, sitting down besides him.

 

They were sitting side by side at the dinner table, the only thing keeping them from touching being that Stiles couldn’t touch.

 

“Are you—am I asleep? Is this—” At the terrifying thought that the Nogitsune had somehow crawled into his head again, Stiles looked down at his hand, hurriedly counting his fingers.

 

One, two, three, four.

 

“No my dove, you’re awake. ” Claudia looked saddened as she noticed her son frantically counting his fingers.

 

Five, six, seven, eight.

 

“I am real, I promise you that.”

 

Nine.

 

_ Ten _ .

 

Counting them again just to be sure, Stiles slowly looked up at the apparition of his mother again, eyes wide with disbelief and hope.

 

“How? How are you—I saw you, I was there when you— _ mom _ .”

 

Nudging the plate of pancakes - just as fluffy as Stiles remembered and with that extra bit of something that neither he nor his dad could ever perfectly replicate - closer to her son, Claudia watched with soft eyes as Stiles started eating, unable to keep his eyes off of her.

 

“I am sorry that you had to go through that, that you had to be there for the times when I wasn’t myself.” There was an afterlife, after all, and Claudia had been horrified at the psychological damage her illness had done to her son. “I’m here for now though, should be here for another hour at the least.”

 

“ _ How?  _ Did something call you here? Is the Nemeton—”

 

“Oh no, no!” Claudia quickly interrupted, leaning forwards into Stiles’ personal space as she looked him in the eyes, though she would have wrapped him in a hug had she been able to do so. “No, I wasn’t called here by a hostile force, my little dove. I was—mm, I can’t tell you every detail, but I was asked to be part of a spell? I think it’s a spell, though I think you would figure out the correct classification once you have all the details. It’s fascinating to learn about the Supernatural world even after passing, I honestly don’t understand that McCall boy’s insistence on not wanting to learn everything there is, honestly…”

 

Stiles ate his pancakes slowly, even as he watched his mother motion with her arms as she started to excitedly ramble on about little interesting tidbits she had learned through watching him and the rest of Beacon Hills. There was no doubt that this was his mother, some form of his mom, Stiles mused even as a smile formed on his face and one of her arms flailed straight through him.

 

He didn’t even flinch, too enraptured with watching and memorizing every detail of his mom once again.

 

“—and if I ever get my hands on that old man in the After, I will strangle him, reapers be damned!”

 

The topic of her ranting had somehow landed on Gerard Argent, and though Stiles dearly agreed with his mom, he still had his burning question.

 

“Mom?” Claudia, who had just been getting into a full on rant about the Argent bad seeds, stopped in the middle of her sentence to turn to Stiles with a loving smile, as if a switch had been flipped. Stiles was definitely his mother’s child. “This spell, it isn’t dangerous? It isn’t forcing you somehow?”

 

Because as glad as he was to be talking to his mom, to  _ see _ his mom, to eat her perfect pancakes, to listen as she talked enthusiastically about everything under the sun, Stiles would hate himself if she was somehow forced to be here due to a magical cause.

 

Claudia seemed to understand his thought process, as her eyes softened and her flailing enthusiasm calmed a little.

 

“No darling, no, nothing like that. I was informed by one of the reapers of the spell being cast, and I was given the choice to listen to it. Had I not answered the call, the magic would have reached to the next member of our family in the After, one you were close to. You would probably be verbally sparring with babcia right about now. I have missed our family barbecues.”

 

So had Stiles. A Stilinski barbecue was always a spectacle, whether it was so because someone had started a food war and grills were pulled out of seemingly nowhere, or because there were always family members they had never seen before popping out of the woodwork. The one time the McCall family had come to one of their barbecues, they had almost immediately turned tail and ran the moment they noticed one of the Stilinski’s honored traditions that was basically the horrific misshapen lovechild of rugby, dodge ball and freeze tag.

 

Which, to be fair, the barbecue they had walked in on had been the one where 6”7’ tall uncle Pyotr had decided to use a raw slab of steak as the ball before tackling the tiny, happily squealing Stiles to the ground.

 

Family barbecues. No longer as frequent as before Claudia passed, and something Stiles hadn’t realized he wanted until his mom mentioned them.

 

“My brother was always a blast at barbecues.” Claudia looked wistfully as her thoughts apparently went straight to uncle Pyotr as well. “Next time there is a barbecue, stuff a squirrel down his pants for old time’s sake.”

 

“I’ll even make sure it’s an extra hungry squirrel.” Stiles’ throat was a little tight as he remembered the last time his mom had done exactly that, only a couple of months before her illness put her in the hospital.

 

“That’s my boy.” Claudia passed a hand over his head, and Stiles could almost feel her fingers weave through his hair, like she had done countless times before.

 

“There were a couple of things I could mention about the spell though, ones that should help you puzzle it together. The first being that the spell has three different—levels, I suppose you can call them. They’re supposed to call upon the past, the present and the future of the one the spell was cast for. Me being your past, though I do not know what or who will be there for present or future.”

 

“Cast for me?” Pushing his plate aside, having only barely kept himself from actually licking it clean, Stiles looked curiously at his mom even as he shuffled to sit even closer to her, only just barely keeping from touching and phasing through her.

 

“Ah, yes, the spell is an intention based one, I think the reaper said? It is supposed to be a piece of magic that can only be performed if the intentions of the caster are good and true. If they aren’t completely pure, the spell wouldn’t have worked, so you can probably safely assume that it isn’t an enemy of yours.”

 

Which was always good news, as Beacon Hills as a whole seemed to attract enemies like they were going out of style. It would be nice if Stiles managed to have a peaceful Christmas without something or someone attempting to kill all of them.

 

And this, this spell, sounded like the exact opposite of killing him.

 

Christ, he was talking to his  _ mom  _ for the first time in  _ years _ , he might have to promise this mysterious caster his first born baby as a thank you.

 

There was one other aspect of the spell that Claudia could tell him about, and that was that she could only stick around for an hour. The present part of the spell would stick around for two, and the future would be there for three. It was a guarantee that when Claudia would go back to the After, the second part of the spell would activate.

 

That meant they had a little over half an hour left together, and Stiles wasn’t going to waste a single second of it pondering about a spell.

 

He could do that later.

 

Because right now, his mom was  _ sitting right beside him _ .

 

——

 

Stiles had been terrified that when it came time for Claudia to leave again, that he would collapse as he once again lost his mother. But he didn’t. He didn’t, because he wasn’t losing his mother again. Instead, he might have finally gotten the closure he hadn’t even been aware of he had desperately needed.

 

While previously he had intellectually known that his mom wouldn’t blame him for her death, he now knew for sure that she didn’t. It wouldn’t magically take away all his fears and insecurities surrounding her disease and death, but it helped enough that still raw wounds could finally start healing.

 

And while there were tears when Claudia started fading away again, Stiles had said goodbye to his mom for the last time with a lighter heart and a promise to finally get in contact with the rest of their eccentric family again.

 

In the minute, maybe two, that Stiles had between the spells finishing its first part and starting the second act, Stiles quickly put on some clothes and grabbed his bag. He hoped that whatever the second part did, or whoever the second part sent, could be dealt with while he was driving his jeep, because he needed to get to the loft.

 

“Huh,” a voice spoke up behind him, causing Stiles to leap up and almost hit his head on the side of his table in the rush, “I do have a spectacular ass.”

 

Turning around with a sharp response on his tongue, Stiles let the words die out of stunned surprise as he found himself staring at a carbon copy of himself, though one that had a lazy smirk curling his lips, like a cat that caught the canary  _ and _ the mouse.

 

“Present me is a surprise twin reveal?”

 

Other-Stiles snorted in amusement, before flashing his sharper than normal fangs at him, eyes flashing Beta golden as he did so. Stiles’ was only mildly embarrassed by the high-pitched shriek that came out of his mouth when other-Stiles grew sideburns and full-sized canines.

 

“Surprise twin Werewolf reveal, that counts, right?”

 

Other-Stiles was having way too much fun with watching him flail around, trying to keep his balance after jumping in surprised shock, only barely managing to catch himself from falling flat on his ass by grasping at the sides of his desk.

 

“Dude!” Stiles almost immediately popped upright again, and moved towards other-him to poke at his chest.

 

Other-him grinned at him, with fangs still showing, before playfully snapping at him once more. When Stiles didn’t do much more than start poking him more forcefully, other-him let his features melt back to their more human appearance.

 

“You’re not a wolf then?” Other-him sounded both curious and genuinely baffled, as if he couldn’t understand just how that could have possibly happened. “How did you find out about the Supernatural then?”

 

“Scott got bitten by—”

 

“Scott?” Other-him interrupted Stiles, mouth dropping open as he gaped openly at Stiles. “ _ Scott McCall? _ As in the guy that can’t see evil even when it hits him in the head? Scott everything-is-good-killing-is-bad McCall? Scott—”

 

“Yes!” Stiles interrupted himself, before he went on. “That Scott McCall, I guess he wasn’t bitten in your…time? Universe? Dimension?”

 

Other-him made an odd little squeaking sound as he processed the fact that Scott had been bitten, before letting his feelings out with a giggle that sounded only a little hysterical.

 

“No,  _ no _ , of course Scott wasn’t bitten, he wasn’t stupid enough to go into the woods with me that night.”

 

“ _ Peter _ bit you?”

 

“Yes? Who else but my Alpha could have bitten me?”

 

“ _ Your Alpha?! _ ”

 

Stiles hadn’t known his voice could go that high before today, but he was all about learning new things about himself. And his other self. Who had apparently been turned by Peter. And seemed to have accepted him as his Alpha somewhat.

 

“Who else would be the Alpha? I mean, sure, I still disagree with him over killing Laura, but he was a little insane at that point, but he’s a good Alpha over all.”

 

Stiles was about to change other-him’s world.

 

“Scott’s the Alpha! True Alpha, whatever. Peter hasn’t been the Alpha since we killed him!”

 

“ _ What? _ Why would you kill him? He isn’t—my Alpha isn’t—”

 

Okay, shit, that was definitely not the way he wanted to change other-him’s world, the wolf looked devastated. Stiles should have probably thought over what he wanted to say a bit more, not just throw the death of this guy’s Alpha out there like it didn’t mean anything.

 

Hell, Stiles still had nightmares about a burning Peter.

 

“He’s alive. Peter, I mean. We killed him, Derek slashed his throat, but Peter clawed himself back from the dead a couple months later. A lot saner than when we had to kill him. He isn’t an Alpha anymore, but he is alive.”

 

Other-him latched onto his words, slowly managing to get his flashing eyes under control again and the hurried reassurance that even in this time line his Alpha was still alive, even if not an Alpha anymore. Wasn’t his Alpha here, and had never been.

 

“How in the hell did that — tell me everything. Please.”

 

Stiles needed to leave for the loft in twenty minutes, in order to be on time for pack cuddles and an interrogation. And okay, Stiles was looking forward to walking in with his twin from another world, so sue him. He wanted to see what the pack’s reaction would be.

 

That didn’t mean he couldn’t sit down with his other self and tell him what had been happening in this world. It might even help to get it all out, because that was something he hadn’t been able to do. Well, he had with Morell, but she didn’t count. Not really.

 

——

 

By the time Stiles and WolfenStiles were in the jeep — he was hilarious, really — and on their way to the loft, they were mostly caught up on the differences in their worlds. All in all, they didn’t have too much of a different experience. WolfenStiles had been the one bitten by Peter instead of Scott, but it hadn’t magically cured the Alpha. He had still gone on a minor killing spree, but with his first bitten Beta actually choosing to run with him during the full moons, Peter’s revenge ended with Kate, instead of attempting to go after Allison next.

 

“The Alpha pack were a bunch of cunts, I’ll give you that.” Stiles was going to just call him Wolf in his head, before it got too confusing. “But they didn’t go after my Pack like they did with yours. They tested Peter but I think he got the message across quite nicely when he ripped out Kali’s throat in warning.”

 

“And he got away with that?!” Stiles’ tone was incredulous, as he worked on keeping his eyes on the road instead of gaping at Wolf like he wanted to do.

 

“Well, yea. My Alpha isn’t an idiot, he went after the Alpha who Deucalion liked the least. The twins are like his kids, had Peter gone after them we’d all be dead. With Ennis as well, he’s practically Deuc’s brother. Kali wanted to strike out on her own though, so Peter used her to get his message across. We now have weekly luncheons with them.”

 

“So…if Derek had managed to kill Kali we wouldn’t have nearly lost Erica, Boyd and Cora?”

 

Wolf winced a little.

 

“Pretty much, but keep in mind that Derek in any universe isn’t a killer. He studied art history, for the moon’s sake.”

 

“Right.” Not that Stiles had known that before today, but it explained so much about the loft. Like why there were paintings all over the place but furniture still seemed like a foreign concept to Derek.

 

“How much time do you have left here, wolf-me?”

 

“Aww, getting tired of me already, squishy human?”

 

Stiles snorted even as he parked his job in the garage beneath the building the loft was in, making sure to turn to face Wolf so that he could  _ see _ the epic eye roll.

 

“I want to make an entrance, and having you fade away in the middle of the entrance would be boring.”

 

“Fair enough.” Wolf shrugged even as he pressed the button in the elevators — the most fancy and up-to-date thing in the entire building — which Stiles motioned to. “I should be good for another hour and a half. I want to give you a bit of a warning though.”

 

For once, Wolf looked completely serious, making sure he had Stiles’ full attention before he spoke again.

 

“Peter’s my Alpha. Your Peter might not be, but I’m not going to ignore him. I don’t know what the relationship between you two is, but I’m not going to pretend he isn’t pack in my universe.”

 

What Wolf hadn’t expected was for Stiles to reach over and manually stop the elevator, so that he could answer while they were still out of hearing range from the Werewolves already at the loft.

 

“Peter is a bit on the fringes of the pack. Derek still hasn’t forgiven him, and True Alpha Scott McCall still holds a grudge against him for being the one to bite him, never mind that it got him nearly everything he has now. He’s pack, but barely.” Stiles frowned a little at nothing, giving Wolf time to erase the displeased frown from his face before Stiles saw it.

 

“As the pack’s token human,” the sneer could definitely be heard, “I get left behind to do research. Peter gets left behind to do research with me because no one trusts him not to stab them in the back. Well, except for Kira, but that’s because Kira is a sweetheart. I like Peter, as Malia once said he’s basically Satan in a V-neck. Though he is less Satan and more pragmatic asshole with sass levels through the roof.”

 

“So,” there was a little fang in Wolf’s grin, “like us, then?”

 

At Stiles’ amused nod, the muscles in Wolf’s shoulders lost their tension as he realized that while Peter might not be his Alpha, or even an Alpha, in this universe, he still sounded very much the same.

 

Seeing the serious look bleed back to a playful grin, Stiles pressed the button to put the elevator back into motion, as they continued on to the loft.

 

It had been a while since Stiles had given the pack a shock, they were overdue one.

 

——

 

The pack had been silent ever since they heard the elevator stop and open in the hallway outside of the loft, looking at each other in confusion at the twin rapid heartbeats that were making their way towards the entrance, the scent of Stiles strong even though there wasn’t a single whiff of any identifiable foreign scents which might have given a clue as to who Stiles’ companion might be.

 

All of them were present already in the loft, they had only been waiting on Stiles to finally show up — though they had been warned over the phone that he would be a little late. As far as they knew, though, Stiles didn’t know any other Supernatural people he could be bringing to the loft, and they knew his dad was working today.

 

None of them had much more time to ponder though, as Stiles didn’t bother with knocking and just pulled open the heavy metal sliding door, stepping inside.

 

Quickly followed by his identical twin.

 

Wait what?

 

In unison, every single person present blinked twice before glancing between the two Stiles’, who had moved until they were standing besides each other, having twisted their arms together even as they bumped shoulders.

 

“What is going on?” Isaac was the one who finally spoke up first, confusion lining his face even as he unsubtly scented the air, trying to make sense of just what he was seeing.

 

“Magic!” Stiles-on-the-left said with a grin, making Stiles-on-the-right jab him in the ribs with a snort.

 

“What he means, is that someone cast a spell pure of intent for him, giving him a bit of his past, present and future.” Stiles-on-the-right unlinked his arm just so he could flail as he spoke. “I’m present him from a different dimension. Universe. Whatever, we’re still working on that part.”

 

It was silent in the loft for a bit longer, though Derek’s scowl of not-understanding-but-unhappy was slowly returning to the general area of his forehead. It looked a lot like his glare though, so the Stiles’ could be mistaken.

 

“What?” Scott finally sputtered. “Other dimension? How is that-why are you-what?”

 

The moment Scott had spoken, Stiles-on-the-right had started looking him over curiously, walking forward just so he could lean into Scott’s personal space, watching as Scott’s eyes flashed red for a short second even as he leaned back, looking uncomfortable and confused. The combination made him look a little bit constipated, if Stiles was honest.

 

“Huh. You  _ are _ an Alpha. I wasn’t sure whether to believe other-me. Peter bit you, right?”

 

It gained Peter, who had so far been sitting silently on the spiral staircase, a dark look from a Scott who had definitely still not forgiven him.

 

“Really?” Stiles sighed, stepping away from Scott, disappointment in his eyes. “You resent him for biting you? Bit of a hypocrite even in this universe, aren’t you?”

 

Scott’s eyes flashed red at him again, but this time there was a small snarl thrown in for good measure.

 

Stiles snarled back, eyes flashing a Beta golden even as he showed his fangs in warning to the Alpha that wasn’t his.

 

The red disappeared out of Scott’s eyes out of pure surprise, and everyone in the loft was gaping at Wolf-Stiles. In the meantime, Human Stiles had decided that shit-stirring was something he was also quite good at, and had taken a seat besides Peter, who had perked up with interest the moment Wolf had snarled.

 

“Hey Peter.” Stiles faux-whispered, grinning when the older wolf turned his Supernaturally blue eyes to look at him. “Apparently you make a terrific Alpha when you bite me instead of Scott.”

 

Silence reigned in the loft once more, even though Wolf was still growling a little at the True Alpha who thought he could intimidate a wolf who wasn’t one of his Betas. Peter’s eyes were wide with surprise, though Stiles could see a little bit of delight creep into them at the words.

 

Before Peter suddenly started leering.

 

“You do make a terrific wolf, sweetheart.” Peter purred with a glance at Wolf, looking more than a little satisfied at being so obviously proven correct.

 

“Creeperwolf.” It didn’t skip Peter’s notice that the nickname sounded a lot more fond than it had before, and he wondered what it was that the boy’s twin from another dimension had told him about his Peter.

 

Of course, as much as he would have liked to start up a good banter and sass session with Stiles, it was not to be. Because apparently, when someone uses the words ‘spell’, ‘other dimension’, ‘werewolf Stiles’ and ‘good Alpha Peter’ all in nearly the same breath, people start demanding answers.

 

And even as the two Stiles’ started answering what little they could, Peter found himself unable to keep his eyes off of Wolf, noticing how the boy kept his body language loose even though he was standing half in front of Peter, muscles tense and ready to move at even the slightest hint that someone was going to attempt to attack Peter in any way.

 

Alpha. How strange, but how very  _ enticing, _ this knowledge that this different version of Stiles was so incredibly loyal to him.

 

How incredible that it seemed to be rubbing off a little on his version of Stiles, seeing as the boy was still seated comfortably besides him.

 

“I did tell you that you would have made an excellent Werewolf.” Peter hummed a quarter of an hour later, as he and Human-Stiles still sat next to one another, staring at the arm-wrestling contest between Werewolf-Stiles and Scott. A contest that not the Alpha but the Beta was winning.

 

It was a bit pathetic, to be honest.

 

“You did. But I’m happy being just a human.” Stiles shrugged a little to himself, sour look on his face as he nearly spat the word ‘ _ just _ ’, causing Were-Stiles to look up with a frown, seemingly ready to interfere. Peter had also picked up on the tone, however, and splayed a hand across the back of Stiles’ neck.

 

“There’s nothing  _ just _ about you, Stiles. You have more strength of mind, more control over yourself, more maturity to you than all the pups in this room together. Being a Werewolf would only add strength of body to your formidable repertoire. And of course allow you to heal when you choose to sass an Omega.”

 

“Once. I did that once.” Stiles’ protest sounded monotone though, forcing some words past his lips even as he stared at Peter’s for once serious eyes.

 

“No, I do remember you calling Deucalion out on overcompensating for his quote unquote small penis. To his face.” Stiles flushed bright red, and his not-twin let out a slightly hysterical giggle. “But that’s not the point, Stiles, and you know it. I am still of the opinion that you would make an excellent Werewolf, but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t amazing as you are, magic or not, human or not.”

 

It was probably the closest Peter would get to telling Stiles he was perfect just the way he was, without saying those exact words. Stiles decided to let his flush speak for him, a thank you to the compliment that he could not articulate without stumbling over every other word.

 

The pack glanced between the two on the stairs with slightly horrified looks on their faces, while Were-Stiles gave them a thumbs up and a fanged grin.

 

“Did someone clone Stiles?” Everyone glanced at the doorway, where Chris Argent had just walked in carrying an ungodly amount of pizza boxes, staring between the two teens even as he tried to decide whether dropping the pizzas and going for a weapon would be necessary.

 

He nearly dropped them anyway as Were-Stiles started to fade away.

 

“What the  _ fuck _ ?”

 

“Oh hey,” Were-Stiles bounded up to Stiles, and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, “looks like my time is up for now. I wonder if you’ll be getting the same future-Stiles that I did!”

 

That was the first time Were-Stiles had mentioned that he had also had this spell cast for him once, and Stiles blinked a little stupidly up at him. Before he could react though, Were-Stiles flashed his eyes playfully at Peter, grinning in delight as the older wolf flashed blue eyes back at him.

 

“Who cast it for you?” Was what Stiles finally managed to get out.

 

“The same person who’s behind this spell, brother from the same mother.” And with that, and a last wink, Were-Stiles had completely faded away.

 

The dick. No doubt left that he had indeed been a different version of himself. He would have done the same.  _ The dick _ .

 

“Can someone please tell me what is going on?”

 

Chris implored even as he was relieved of his pizza burden by hungry teenage Werewolves. The man still looked ready to reach for one of his weapons, even though there was no one to aim at anymore.

 

“It’s a spell filled with pure intent, cast by a suitor to allow Stiles a glance at his past, a conversation with his present and a visit from his future.”

 

The voice that spoke up came from just behind Chris, and it caused the Hunter to jump a little, twisting around even as he reached for a gun. He paused halfway through, when he came face to face with what seemed to be an older Stiles, day old stubble dotting his chin and brown locks just brushing the tips of his ears.

 

Canting his head to the side a little, older Stiles quirked a smile at Chris. With a pat on the man’s shoulder, Stiles stepped around him, showing off his heavily tattooed arms that were on display to the rest of the room.

 

“It’s been a while since your first instinct was to aim a gun at me, papa.” Older Stiles grinned at the Hunter, only for the grin to fade a little as Chris just blinked slowly at him, frowning in confusion.

 

“Papa?” Erica whispered none too softly to Boyd, who shrugged, non-plussed.

 

Older Stiles dragged a hand down his face, before chuckling a little.

 

“Oops. Spoiler alert.” And then, without offering further information that Chris so clearly wanted, older Stiles turned towards his gaping younger self and reached over to give him a hug.

 

“I look so adorable.” Older Stiles muttered into his hair, causing Stiles to grumble a little even as he returned the impromptu hug.

 

“I’m not adorable. I’m ruggedly handsome.” Stiles muttered into older him’s chest, listening to the soft rumbling as a low chuckle sounded through older Stiles’ chest.

 

“Of course you are.” Older Stiles released him with a wink, before turning and giving Peter the same treatment with just a little extra. As in, Peter got treated to a big Stiles Stilinski hug complete with copious amounts of scenting.

 

This was so unlike anything Peter had expected, that he found himself unable to move, stunned as this older man whose scent was almost exactly like his Stiles’ scent, marked him in such a familiar way. And did so with ease, as if this was something they did every day.

 

Who knew, maybe in this older Stiles’ universe, they did.

 

“Papa?” Chris had finally resurfaced from the land of the overwhelmed, though Allison muttering an explanation as to older Stiles’ presence had probably helped a long way with that.

 

“Hmm?” Older Stiles finally released Peter from the hug and straightened till he stood at an impressive 6”2, casting a curious look over the room before refocusing on Chris. “Oh yes. You married my dad not long after I turned twenty. It was about time, to be honest.”

 

Allison let out a loud squeal even as Chris’ mouth dropped open, along with most of the other wolves. Older Stiles took the stunned silence that fell over the room to mean that he could focus all his attention on Stiles, grabbing a chair so that he could actually sit facing him.

 

“I didn’t think Christopher would ever act upon that particular desire.” Peter said in a questioning tone, leaning forwards. Stiles squeaked a little in surprise at the words.

 

“Well, he didn’t.” Older Stiles shrugged with a grin. “It was my dad who finally asked him out, and Ally who practically lifted papa into the restaurant for the first date. Honestly, he was a bit of a self-sacrificing idiot for a while.”

 

Everyone ignored Chris’ sputtering and Allison’s giggles in the background.

 

“But I’m not here to play matchmaker for my dads, no matter how much they need it. I’m here to tell you spoilers, mini-me.”

 

“Goddamnit,” Stiles sighed, “I should have seen that coming.”

 

“Yes you really should have. Now, if the magic had given me some time to prepare before coming here, I could have figured out what spoilers to tell you, but—” Older Stiles was cut off mid-sentence, and mid-flail, with a shout from Scott.

 

“Is that a  _ ring _ ?!”

 

Older Stiles closed his mouth with a click, turning a little in his chair to shoot Scott an annoyed look.

 

“Please shut up, I’m here as a courting present for Stiles, not you. But yes, it is indeed a ring.” Older Stiles held up his hand and wiggled his fingers a little, making the golden wedding band glitter beneath the light. “Who knew that when you marry someone, you end up wearing a ring? Shocking.”

 

“Who is your wife?” Scott spoke up again, having seemingly decided to take Older Stiles’ advice about shutting up before promptly ignoring it again.

 

Turning around in his chair again, Older Stiles looked at Stiles before answering, both to see mini-him’s reaction and to signify that he wasn’t going to continue having a conversation with Scott.

 

“Husband, actually.” Several people started muttering in surprise, but Stiles’ eyes didn’t even widen in shock. Excellent, mini-him was already aware of his sexuality, that would make this all go a lot smoother. Hopefully. “And to tell you who would be too many spoilers, especially for mini-me.”

 

No matter how hard the rest of them tried to ask more about this mystery husband, or their own futures, for the next few hours Older Stiles would only speak to Stiles. And if Peter, Chris or Allison asked a question, he deigned to answer those as well. Though everything was kept remarkably spoiler free.

 

“Liam makes a remarkably good Alpha. I mean, he isn’t one, but still.”

 

No one knew who Liam was, except Lydia who silently wondered how the still human freshman would become involved with the Supernatural.

 

“Oh hey, that whole Spark thing Deaton was on about?” Cue Older Stiles making his tattoos light up and move around. “Turns out not to be a myth. Ask Peter.”

 

Peter’s slight shrug got him a mild glare from Stiles for failing to mention that earlier, though the promise of being able to borrow some books pacified him for now.

 

“Derek and Braeden make some damn cute kids together.”

 

Erica didn’t know Derek could flush that red or that Braeden could look that smug, but she took some pictures anyway for future blackmail, of course.

 

“Also, papa is  _ really flexible, _ so make sure you move out like the second dad and papa move in together, alright?”

 

If it hadn’t been for Allison physically stopping her dad, Chris would have walked right out of the loft at that, face beet red.

 

“The thing is,” older Stiles sighed a long while later, leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head, “you need to take the path you want to take. If you don’t, this entire conversation will have been for naught. You need to do what is best for you, do what  _ you _ want to do. Don’t mind the opinions of anyone else, and especially ignore Scott’s opinion — he’s quite selfish.”

 

Standing up, Older Stiles put the chair back in place before he turned his attention back to Stiles.

 

“You know who cast this spell, you knew it the moment your mom told you about the rules of casting it. I should know,” Older Stiles smiled, a soft and kind thing as Stiles flushed a little, “because it was the same person that cast this spell for me as well. And hey, we ended up marrying.”

 

Stiles didn’t watch as his older self started fading away, as he had turned to stare at Peter, eyes wide. The Werewolf was studiously avoiding looking at him, instead watching until the last of Older Stiles had faded from sight. When he could no longer avoid Stiles’ stare, Peter reluctantly turned a little to look at him, afraid of what he would see.

 

Of all the things he had expected, the naked hope combined with a silent question wasn’t it. And as much as Peter disliked baring himself for anyone, he had cast the spell for a reason.

 

The fact that it had worked just showed his pure intent, showed that he cared for the recipient of the spell without openly saying so. Peter had let himself be completely vulnerable for the boy he intended on courting, so it wasn’t as if he was putting more of himself at risk when he nodded at the silent question.

 

One could hardly put more at risk when everything was already on the line.

 

Several members of the pack were choking on their own spit in surprise, but a few were just nodding internally, not too surprised that Peter had finally made a move. Even though they had all expected that Peter would never actually make the first move, nor had they expected that Stiles would be open to the offer.

 

But after they had spoken to a Werewolf version of their friend and the older,  _ married _ , version of Stiles, they were no longer sure. Both of them had mentioned that they had the same spell performed for them, and that they had accepted the courting. At least two other versions of Peter had courted Stiles, and Stiles had apparently accepted it.

 

And, if the smile that was slowly spreading across their Stiles’ face was any indication, Peter’s courting would be accepted here as well.

 

Lydia cooed a little even as she and Allison both covered Scott’s mouth with a hand at the same time, heels digging painfully into his toes to stop him from speaking up as he so clearly wanted to do.

 

Peter blinked when he suddenly found his arms full of an elated Stiles, his muscles slowly relaxing even as he wrapped his arms around his boy.

 

Through the walls, he could hear families that lived on Derek’s street tap glasses as rustling sounds indicated that presents were being passed around. Looking down at the top of Stiles’ head, Peter let a smile soften his features. Soon, the rest of the pack would become active again, start demanding the many presents that were beneath the pack’s Christmas tree.

 

But for now, Peter could just hold the best Christmas present he would get this year, and hopefully have for many years to come.

 

He didn’t know what he did to deserve Stiles, but while he had the boy, he wouldn’t let him go. No matter what.

 

**Author's Note:**

> That's all! This story is finished :)  
> Come join me on [Tumblr](http://merwin-me.tumblr.com)!


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